Elephants and new perspectives…
On the 4th of October I went to the streets to show my solidarity with the elephants and rhinos still existing in this world. Even though I am not a street person, the appeal of the cause was far too strong to be ignored. I was supposed to go with a marine biologist friend, but instead I ended up with a veterinarian friend.
They say elephants give you luck and rhinos symbolize power and strength. What I can say is that before dark I had a new book to write and an unexpected boyfriend. To no one’s surprise, the book is biographic and the “eventual boyfriend”, as I used to call him, is crazy stuff.
I am alone since Paul is gone. I don’t feel the need or urgency to have someone in my life right now. But let me tell you how surprised I am with the interest a simple widow gets! In my mind I thought widows would be disregarded by the society, always ready to ignore the weak and the minorities. I was wrong and I don’t want to prove here how numerically wrong I was.
But somewhere in this town lives a guy called ZM. He leads a quiet, very happy life in all senses, except for one: he wants someone just like me in it. To make sure he gets what he wants, he gave me a monumental hug that broke two of my right ribs. I was alarmed with the subsequent pain. The first doctor was a general practitioner whose diagnosis reminds me of blindfolded people playing the pin the tail on the donkey. He said it was muscular and it looked like I had weak bones. The only sensible thing he recommended was a visit to a local bone specialist.
After a week or so treating a muscular pain with no perceptible results, I went to see the German specialist in question. It turned out I had in fact broken bones and no signs of bone weaknesses.
As a first conclusion, the hug was really strong. As a second conclusion, I’ve been feeling like joining some Guinness Book group about injured people because of love or create a FB page called “Hurt by Love” or even a sort of Nando’s, with the business front name of “Ribs and Bruises”.
I have comprehensible doubts. For a start, it’s far too soon. I want space and freedom before even considering committing to someone. He is in a rush. Half of him attracts me like hell. Half of him is going to be just another source of pain. He is a happy person unhappy with his life. I am an unhappy person happy with my life. Makes sense?
I’ve been always a fantastic girlfriend, but I don’t trust the rest of my relationship skills. Being a girlfriend is all good stuff, being the rest is frightening. I intend, for the rest of my life, to happily answer to the question of status: “Girlfriend!”
I was forced to marry or my precious monthly student allowance would be cut. Now I want everything to happen on my own terms. And what I already decided is to wait until the end of 2015, at least.
Anyway, this late best of October is not about books, ribs or boyfriends. In fact, this is about a short conversation with ZM. I told him I was really surprised with the interest men showed in widows. He smiled and answered:
“Haven’t you seen a guy driving around this town with the words “Widows’ King” painted in the back of his car? That’s say it all!”